


Swan Beauty

by gdiscb



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Transformation, F/M, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-16 02:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gdiscb/pseuds/gdiscb
Summary: Daryl Dixon is no stranger to hunting - be it deer, squirrel, or the occasional fowl. However, Daryl Dixon is a stranger to whatever in the hell this, this 'fancy-ass kinda turkey goose' is. But he is damn well sure determined to get it, if only to get his asshole of an older brother to lay off on the jokes comparing this bird to that chupacabra a couple years back that he swears really happened.Beth Greene is no stranger to hunters - whether they use rifle, shotgun, or bows. Yet, she can't understand how this one particular hunter is not only able to track her but on numerous occasions get close enough for an actual shot at her. But she is darned-well determined to make sure he never gets the chance to shoot her down from the skies that she has come to love and respect, even when she gets to know him better in person.





	1. as the gunshot rings out

**Author's Note:**

> au with elements of the swan princess (1994), and also because i just want an excuse to have a story that i can draw an unreasonable amount of sketches to without seeming obsessed (spoiler alert: i am). i will try to update this as often as i am able to, so it may be hectic unless i can force myself to stick to a schedule. this story was completely thought out and written by me, no rp done for this one. also, i lovingly refer to this fic as "fancy-ass turkey goose".
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> ʕ • ᴥ • ʔb

Silence.

That was all he heard, nothing but _silence_. He rarely got a moment’s peace with the pace that his life was currently going at. Sure, he was in a decent place with not having to struggle to make ends meet with paying for bills and other necessities, but it was almost impossible to have days like this. Just himself in the woods with nature and her beasts.

He wasn’t looking to kill anything for the day, but figured it would be smart to go ahead and bring his gear in-case something happened to cross his path. It was an old crossbow that he had owned since he was seventeen, surprisingly purchased with money he had worked hard to save and earn. He knew it wasn’t much, but it was always reliable to get the job done correctly and efficiently, unlike the bulky and obnoxious shotgun that-

_Crack!_

A small frown graced his face as he turned towards the sound of said bulky and obnoxious shotgun that he knew belonged to his damned brother.

“Dammit Merle…gonna scare off all the damn game from a mile away…”

Torn between whether to continue on his own or head back in the direction behind him, he gave a disgruntled sigh as he started to turn back around when a resounding snapping of twigs echoed close to his current location. Now on high alert, he decided that his older pain-in-the-ass brother could damn-well wait and silently headed towards the noise.

His footsteps were almost non-existent, carefully avoiding broken foliage and surrounding brush to not scare away whatever it was he was currently stalking. And stalking he was, though the intent to kill was not yet at the forefront of his mind when usually hunting his prey.

The sound of his breathing was hushed and through his nose, knowing that making even a slight sound would give away his position and alert the mysterious creature that he was no friend. He crouched under a loose tree limb, pausing for a second to listen for any other noise from the target. The total distance he walked couldn’t have been more than twenty yards, when he saw a small clearing through the brush. He quickly got down to his knees and swung his cross-bow around to vie for a shot. As he was getting the bow strung and steady, he got a better idea of what had caught his attention in the first place. Quick glance revealed that it was a bird of some kind, perched up in an old and gnarled up birch tree.

Fowl wasn’t hard game for him to hunt, but it wasn’t necessarily his favorite. However, deer season wasn’t for another five months and he wasn’t one to complain when his meat supply was in need of restocking.

Still slowly making his way towards the bird, his line of sight got clearer for him to see that it wasn’t an ordinary type of fowl. He tried squinting his eyes, thinking that maybe it was the light from the sun but knowing that he was in the shade while the weird looking animal was in broad daylight. Whatever it was, he knew that it wasn’t from around the area, let alone the state of Georgia. Once in a position that gave him a clear shot, he steadied himself before deciding to let loose a bolt. He cleared his mind of anything but the target of the bird –

_Turkey? No, too pale and lean._

which suddenly decided to land in the water, causing him slight confusion.

_A goose?_

Deciding that it didn’t really matter what kind of bird it was, only that he was going to be stocking up his large box freezer that he used for game, he looked through the old scope of his crossbow and lined up with the target.

Breathe in.

Hold.

Exhale.

Pause.

“Hey, baby brother! Whatcha doin’ all the way out here, huh?”

Son of a bitch, perfect timing for his asshole of an older brother to come traipsing through the woods even though he was drunk off his rocker. Luckily he had the intelligence to not shoot off one of his bolts and miss at the target, which was now taking off from the racket Merle was making. How he didn’t hear him until right this moment is something that is going to bother him for the rest of the day, but figured that nothing could be done now.

“Hey! Darylina, didn’t you hear me boy? I said, what’re you doi-“

“Shut up Merle, you’re scarin’ off everything within five miles of here!”

Daryl didn’t care that his voice was echoing throughout the surrounding area, frustration towards his brother increasing at causing him to miss his chance at shooting the whatever-the-hell kind of bird it was. He backed up towards another weathered birch tree, leaning against the sturdy trunk and began tweaking with the drawstring on his crossbow.

“Well, excuse me! I thought we came out here to relax and have a good ol’ time, but of course you gotta be goin’ out and getting’ a branch stuck up your ass. I’m tellin’ ya, you need to get laid more than once a year boy!”

Merle belched out a laugh, stumbling a little and deciding to press his arm against an adjacent tree. Daryl kept his eyes down, avoiding looking at his brother lest he snap at him for causing him to miss a perfectly good shot.

“What was it that you were tryna shoot anyways? A mutant turkey?”

He rolled his eyes, of course Merle wouldn’t have been able to see it clearly and come up with some bat-shit crazy idea.

“Nah, wasn’t no turkey. Looked like some kinda goose, too far away to tell for sure.”

He could hear him shuffling around, still not looking up from his menial task to distract himself from lashing out. Daryl couldn’t tell if his brother was either too hammered to continue or trying too hard to think of some kind of smart ass remark. He got his answer when Merle opened his mouth to the first thing that popped into his head.

“Maybe it’s some kinda fancy ass turkey goose, lil’ brother. Ya know, like some kinda mutated bird flyin’ round these parts. I betcha it had like five eyeballs or some shit!”

Daryl finally glanced up at his brother, who was beginning to laugh hysterically at the thought of a wild mutated bird flying around the woods of Georgia with five eyes and whatever else he could think of. He loaded up his bow across his back and walked past Merle, knowing that while his brother was drunk enough to be spouting off shit could keep pace with him no problem. They grew up in these woods, could probably trace it back with their eyes closed no sweat.

As they made their way back to the truck by the edge of the tree line, Daryl kept glancing up towards the sky as if the mysterious bird would magically fly over him and he could get another shot. Whatever it was, time would tell whether he would see it again or not and the next time he did, he would make sure that he was alone to avoid scaring it off again.

* * *

The first thing she did as soon as she got home was run upstairs to her bathroom and turn on the shower until it was steaming into her bedroom. She tore off her clothes in such a hurry, almost ripping the zipper on her jeans further than it would go. Her bedroom door was closed to the hallway and she nearly missed the indiscernible knock that came from outside.

“Bethy? Is everything alright?”

Beth glanced out into her room, still wearing her underwear with her jeans and shirt circling her feet in a pile on the cool tiled floor.

“Yes daddy, I’m fine! Just had the urge to clean up before supper so Maggie doesn’t yell at me for making a mess at the table again.”

She held her breath, hoping that her answer would be enough to salve her daddy’s inquiries. While she wasn’t technically lying about wanting to shower, she didn’t want to cause him more concern than needed. It was already enough that her family had to deal with her reoccurring _health issue_ , to add on top that she would sometimes get into sticky situations with predators or human interaction would be the nail in the coffin of restricting her yet again.

Beth knew that her daddy only wanted what was best for her, to keep her safe and well, but it took her almost a year before beginning college to convince her family that she would be careful whenever she went out on her needed trips. Maggie was the most vocal about it, threatening to tie her to a pole if she even thought about flying about without someone to watch or hear her. Shawn agreed with her sister but wasn’t going to be as loud about it, being more like their mama in personality. Daddy was neutral about things, wanting to let Beth grow up but not wanting her to carelessly through herself into harm’s way. Annette was the one that put her foot down and said that everyone needed to stop treating Beth like she was still five years old and respect her decisions. Everyone was shocked by that, not expecting that mama would be the one to take her youngest daughter’s side instead of trying to put restrictions on her.

After that, no one questioned her newfound freedom to go out by herself, afraid to feel the wraith that would be a stern Annette Greene.

_Within reason, of course_

Her mama had laid down some rules her last year of high school, making sure she wouldn’t fall behind in her studies but allowing her to have that needed privacy and just enjoy being who she was. Then again, who was she? She was Beth Greene, daughter of Hershel and Annette Greene, youngest sibling to Maggie and Shawn. She had her friends at school, the teachers thought she was an excellent student. Her church loved to hear her sing choir on Sundays during sermon. She lived on her family’s farm of more than three generations, she rode her skittish mare Nelly, she wrote songs and played guitar in the quiet oasis of her bedroom.

But that was what everyone _thought_ she was. Of course no one knew who she really was. Beth Greene, modern day freak of nature. No one would believe that she had this condition, this thing that for the longest time she viewed as a disease. At least, no one in their right mind would believe it.

Her family was the exception, since they had seen it with their own two eyes ever since she was born, along with the local town’s physician. Apparently that was something that she wasn’t privy to, understanding why he had knowledge of what and who she was. All she knew was that somehow his family had a connection with her family and he never once questioned it since the day she was told that what happened, what happens to her isn’t viewed as _normal_.

But then again, what was normal nowadays? This couldn’t have been anything other than normal for her, since it was all that she knew. Ever since from a young age, her parents taught her that her family would accept her and love her no matter what, but not everyone would be that way. There would be people who viewed her as different or something else that wasn’t natural. She couldn’t tell her friends, couldn’t share how she really felt.

Yes, she was Beth Greene, but why did she feel like she was living a lie sometimes?

As time passed by, she just learned to live with it and deal with it at the bare minimum that she could. And it got harder to just scrape by with what she was, especially when mama fell ill during her junior year of college. Beth almost quit school to come home, but mama had been adamant about her daughter leaving when she was okay. It had been an uneasy following year and a half, but she had completed her education and came home as soon as she could. Mama got better, Shawn was starting to take over more tasks around the farm as daddy was busy tending to mama and getting older. Maggie was living in Atlanta, wanting to be more in the busy life of the city rather than the slow cycle of the farm.

Then one day, mama just died in her sleep. It was peaceful, her family there surrounding her afterwards.

Beth was inconsolable for three weeks after that. She couldn’t understand why God decided that he would make mama get better, only for her to be snatched away when everything was going well. Daddy was quiet for a long time and mainly focused on taking care of the farm, with Shawn working almost non-stop except for meal times and sleep. Maggie came back home and Hell broke loose when her and Beth had an explosive argument that ended up with her running out the door and into the woods.

She didn’t return until hours afterwards, leaves and twigs in her hair, dirt on her face. When she walked in through that front door, Maggie slammed into her with the tightest hug she had ever received from her sister. Daddy and Shawn joined in and afterwards everyone sat at the kitchen table just talking about things from when Annette was still alive. The wound that everyone had been dealt with didn’t quite heal but it didn’t hurt as much.

That had been almost a year ago, since mama had passed away. Somedays, she would be alright and going to teach private lessons as a music tutor or helping the church choir with a song for the following Sunday. Others, like today, she would need to escape the confines of reality and just be by herself. It also happened to be convenient since it was close to the time that her condition came into effect. Ever since being told about what happens to her, there are moments when it took _control_ of her for a length of period. More or less for about twenty-four hours, her body would physically change into that of a common swan. In a way, it reminded her of when she got her first period, but would have to say that it was less embarrassing and cramp-free.

Which is why she was in the woods and her family was aware of her whereabouts, to an extent.

What they didn’t know, nor need to know right now, was that she was possibly in danger of being attacked. While her body changes into something animalistic, her mental state pretty much stays the same. She knows how to avoid danger and which areas are safe to fly near, years of practice taught her that. However, today was extremely close because not only had she not heard anyone or anything approach her until the last second, she didn’t realize that it was a legitimate hunter. As soon as she heard yelling from no more than 50 yards below her, her flight response took over and Beth got out of there as fast as her wings could possibly take her.

She didn’t stop until she saw the farmhouse and even then kept going until she just about collapsed on the front porch, where she raced inside to her bathroom to calm her racing heart and check for any signs of injuries that she may have missed in her panicked state of mind.

Beth was almost so lost in her train of thought that she nearly missed her daddy respond to her previous statement.

“Alright, then I’ll let you be. I’ll see you downstairs when you’re finished…”

She was about to head back into the bathroom when daddy made a noise that meant he remembered something.

“Almost forgot to mention, Maggie is bringing her friend over for supper tonight. I believe Glenn is his name? Anyways, I would suggest wearing something nice at the table, since she is going to be nervous and wants to make a good first impression.”

Beth paused at that, only to reply with a question

“To who?”

“Exactly.”

And with a soft chuckle that was muted through the door, Hershel made his way downstairs.

It was quiet for a moment, with the exception of the shower still running behind her. She took a moment to look over her body again for any signs of cuts or bruises, gently turning over her left wrist where a thin and pale scar slightly shined in the afternoon light. Beth closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as her physician taught her whenever things got too loud in her mind, and walked back into the bathroom to take a much needed shower as she began to feel the cool chills of her adrenaline leave her.


	2. sleeping on the blacktop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Daryl's hunt for the mysterious and elusive bird, affectionately titled "fancy ass turkey goose" by his older brother, continue to turn up with dead ends, the after-affects of failure begin to take it's toll on him. No longer is this just a casual hunt, but more of a frenzy that is starting to take control of his emotions and state of mind.
> 
> Beth is becoming more paranoid by the second as it seems that no matter where she goes, that strange hunter keeps showing up ready to shoot her down. Even though she refuses to bring this up to her family out of fear, it seems life takes matter into its own hands when confronted about it by none other than her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i think i have a schedule figured out for updates, which i will try my best to stick to! the best way to get the first notice about a chapter going up is by subscribing, or you could always just check back weekly. i'm also super thrilled that y'all have enjoyed it so far! thank you so much for the comments, kudos, and views, i really appreciate them all! the name of the chapter was titled after the song of the same name, which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drpdrQq8c98) (i highly recommend it since it was a huge inspiration/theme for the entire chapter). i've also sketched out a rough idea of how baby girl looks as a swan, which you can view on my [tumblr](http://consciousinspirations.tumblr.com/post/172533219512/gdiscb-some-rough-sketches-of-what-swanbaby) or [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/p/BhFZM9JHoV9/?taken-by=consciousinspirations)! lastly, the next upload will be on april 14th, which is a saturday since i want to set my weekly updates then.
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> ʕ • ᴥ • ʔb

_“  Sunshine beating on the good times_  
_Moonlight raising from the grave_  
_String band playing worn out honkey-tonks_  
_Pretty young thing going dancing in the rain  "  
_

 

Two months.

 

That’s how much time has passed between the first time he saw that elusive damned bird to now, and it has started to take its toll on him. He went back out into the woods a day or so after attempting to get lit with Merle, only this time he was alone to increase his chances of not scaring anything away again. It was by chance that he happened to stumble upon it once more, not even really looking for it or thinking that it would still be in the area after his brother’s drunken stupor sent every breathing thing that didn’t speak English scurrying for their holes and pits.

 

Daryl doesn’t believe in God, pretty much lost all of whatever faith he had left the day his mama died in that house fire, but getting a rare second chance of hunting this particular animal? He was starting to think that maybe there was some kind of higher power somewhere outside of Coweta County, though not enough to actually believe that there was a faceless man who lived up in the clouds somewhere and that people were dumb enough to worship him.

 

He didn’t think too much about it as he stalked the bird again, vying for a clear shot only to lose his chance yet again when a damned squirrel spooked the bird to send it flying yet again. Daryl knew he didn’t need any meat, but he let a bolt fly through square through the eyes of the vermin just because he felt it was justified.

 

So continued this bullshit dance of tag, getting close enough for the kill only to have something disturb the scene and have it flapping away. He usually didn’t let small things get to him, but his patience was wearing thin by day five of no luck.

 

Merle would berate him every time he saw him, knowing shit-eating grin on his face asking how his latest attempt at the “fancy ass turkey goose” hunt went. Those days, Daryl wished he would have just punched him in his face, but would always settle for flipping him off instead. “Seems like that is the only kinda bird you can catch, baby brother,” he would say, laughter turning into a coughing fit.

 

If things were kept just between him and his brother, he would accept that and move on, probably slowing down on looking for the damn thing. But of course, Merle had to open his fat mouth to anyone who would listen at the bar not ten miles down the road. Then it turned into a shit show that made him really wish he had just gone ahead and knocked the daylights out of his older brother.

 

Which makes him wonder why in the _hell_ he let Merle convince him to join him on his outing to said bar, it being crowded as usual on a Thursday night. Daryl could honestly care less about being social, not really enjoying crowds or being swarmed by annoying drunks who constantly ask the same question every two minutes because they are beyond shit-faced or desperately trying to flirt enough for a quickie in the bathroom. He just wanted to be left alone, drink his shitty beer without the invasive pestering, but Merle was having none of that.

 

The current topic of conversation that he could over-hear was of course about his latest attempt at the mysterious bird, it becoming more elaborate every time the idiot decided to bring it up.

 

“So we was just chillin’, fuckin’ ‘round n’whatnot, when Darylina ‘sides to go wander off without ol’ Merle. I go lookin’ for ‘em, knowin’ that he’d get scared and piss his pants if I wasn’t wit’ ‘em! As I’m bein’ the greatest big brother, he starts flippin’ out cause some fancy ass turkey goose got away and blamin’ me! Ol’ Merle! So I says to man the fuck up! Don’t let it get away! And wouldn’t ya know, baby bro has been takin’ my advice and been lookin’ for the thing everyday! ‘Course, he keeps missin’ it, but he’s still tryin’!”

 

The crowd starts laughing, eating everything that is spewing out of Merle’s mouth without a second thought. More often than not, Daryl just ignores it and focuses on his drink or something else in the bar to avoid causing a scene where the two of them get thrown out.

 

Don’t matter anyhow, he knows that something is fishy about that bird. The bar-goers may join the fray about how he’s just going nuts or hallucinating about some shit, but he knows what he saw. Especially since he found a feather from the thing after it flew away from who knows what. When he picked it up, it had a sheen to it that wasn’t normal for a goose to have. The tips of the feather were the brightest gold he had ever seen, almost like the sun lived inside that bird and it couldn’t contain it anymore and let it leak through.

 

He kept that feather inside his vest pocket, not trusting to leave it somewhere in the open where it could get blown away or picked up by a nosey someone. Sure, it may make him seem all that more crazy or asinine about the whole thing, but he knows what he saw. It’s almost as if the damn thing is mocking him, letting him get close only to get away at the last possible second in defiance.

 

A few more minutes passed, before he decided he had enough of being in the bar. Finishing up the last of his mug, he left a twenty on the counter for the bartender and walked out of the building.

 

There wasn’t any need to let Merle know where he was going, since they didn’t live together anyhow. He had his own place, small but clean in the sense that it didn’t smell like cigarettes or drunken sex every night. Daryl saved up his money for three years to be able to buy that cabin and it was worth every cent, while his brother still lived in the trailer that they had shared until he moved out and being no more than a twelve-minute walk away. It was nice to be able to have his own place to hide out when people just became too much, where there was no noise or social interaction. Sometimes he would wake up earlier than normal and just sit out on the back porch, listening to the trees and wilderness around him before heading to work.

 

As he pulled up to the dirt driveway and parked his bike next to the ancient looking dodge that he got not long after buying the cabin, Daryl turned off the ignition and stayed where he was for a moment’s breath. Everything was peaceful, simple, straightforward out here. No complex emotions or actions, no commotion, no one else but him. He closed his eyes, inhaling the air around him, and felt his body finally relax even after drinking enough to cause enough inhibition.

 

Once he had his fill, he swung his legs over the metal beast and made his way to the door with as little stumbling as he could manage. Sure it was dark, but his eyes had adjusted enough to make out the broad outlines of where everything stood. He didn’t need any lights, he could see just fine. The inside of the cabin was just as dimmed inside as it was out, but he still didn’t feel the urge to turn on the electricity. He knew the way to his room, toeing off his boots by the entrance and shuffling towards the back where his bed laid cool in the nearly stifling heat that spring liked to toe on the edge of.

 

It didn’t take him long to pass out, no longer buzzing as hard as he was earlier but still enough to easily slip into unconsciousness. He rarely dreamt at night, but he did tonight and of one thing only. Visions of golden sunshine, warm and inviting on his skin. A bird. Eyes that weren’t beastly, more human-like in intelligence. Dark blue eyes that reminded him of the creek he would camp by when he was younger, after he learned how to track from getting lost for nine days in the woods. Eyes that weren’t cold, but deep and dark.

 

_Daryl_

 

* * *

 

 

For the past two months, Beth has been going out of her mind. Everywhere she’d go, it seemed like that hunter was following her and each time felt like that was it. All her hiding spots had pretty much been found, even the ones she rarely visited except for once or twice before. Her family surely noticed her change in demeanor, always checking the surrounding area before she left the house. Heck, she couldn’t even go to the Turner’s down the road to babysit their three-year old without glancing in her rearview mirror every five seconds to make sure that she wasn’t being followed.

 

It was like a living nightmare and her nerves were growing wearier as that time was creeping closer yet again. Never had she been this paranoid about her not-period approaching, not even when she first learned that no one else went through this and that it wasn’t deemed normal by the rest of society. Which is why she wasn’t that surprised when her sister decided that they needed a night out together for bonding, as Maggie declared it.

 

In a way, Beth was relieved for the distraction and not being alone for a couple hours, even though she still lived at the farmhouse with daddy and Shawn. Maggie hadn’t lived there in years, but once she moved back she had gotten an apartment in the next town over that was more modern than that of the slow pace of Senioa. She didn’t have any roommates, but apparently the guy she was currently seeing had spent a few nights over. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where that was going, but then again Maggie had always been more of the high-strung one of the family as opposed to Beth being viewed as the soft-spoken daughter. She could be at times, mainly in church, but that wasn’t who she was entirely.

 

Still, going out to local dives and bars wasn’t exactly her thing. She had to basically barter with her older sister about not going to the one bar in a fifty mile radius that was known for being rambunctious and borderline unlawful at times, in exchange for agreeing to let Maggie grab food from the place since she swears it’s really some of the best around and watch the stupid sob movies that make Beth roll her eyes at the utter fakeness to them.

 

That was thirty minutes ago and knowing her sister, she was more than likely having a drink or two with friends while waiting on their meal. So until her sister got back, she was sprawled on Maggie’s three person couch watching Survivor on Netflix and wondering why her sister couldn’t get on board with the series since it had an assortment of genres in one show. Beth was just about to send her a text when the front door opened, revealing Maggie with a take-home bag on each arm and a rather flustered look on her face that wasn’t normal at all. Her stomach started to churn, getting nervous on what her sister was about to spill without much prodding at all.

 

“You’ll never believe what I just heard at Joe’s, cause I sure as hell don’t entirely believe it yet.”

 

Beth stayed where she was, unsure what she could have heard since she didn’t frequent the place and the only connection she had to the place was setting the bags down on the kitchenette counter.

 

“What was it?”

 

Maggie paused, taking in a deep breath as if to recollect her thoughts before saying the first thing that popped into her brain. She turned to face Beth, hip cocked to the side and arms crossed over her chest. Beth knew that look, the way her sister would try to appear more mature and grown-up when getting into a debate or argument.

 

“Apparently there has been multiple sightings of some strange bird in the area that has caught the attention of a pair of hunters.”

 

Her eyes then narrow, like she’s trying to peer into Beth’s mind or get some kind of reaction out of her. She could feel her heart start to race inside, but tried to keep a calm façade and not let her sister know where she was going with this.

 

“Oh? What kind of bird?”

 

That was the wrong thing to say, her sister throwing her hands up in the air and rolling her eyes.

 

“Don’t bullshit me Beth! We both know that they were talking about _you_. I thought you said that you were being careful to not get spotted by hunters!”

 

Maggie could come across as overbearing, which was starting to happen now, but she could understand that her sister was truly worried for her well-being. She sighed, trying to think of something that would placate her until she figured out how to deal with the problem.

 

“I am being careful, I haven’t been shot at and I always get away. That’s gotta count for something, doesn’t it?”

 

Maggie continued to glare at her, chewing her bottom lip and gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine, you won there, but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook!” She grabbed two plates from the cabinets and scooped out enough bar food for the both of them on each plate, walking over to where Beth was still perched on the edge of the couch. She smiled half-heartedly, not entirely certain that Maggie would drop the conversation but relieved that she wasn’t completely mad at her.

 

All she got in warning was a snort from next to her before Maggie stated with dry humor, “Besides, if you have that drunken ass-hat of a Dixon trying to shoot you down, I wouldn’t sweat it too much. That guy spews out more bullshit from his mouth than his-”

 

“Okay! Let’s go ahead and pick a movie to watch for tonight. As agreed, your choice and I can’t complain.”

 

Beth really didn’t want to hear the end of that sentence, nor picture it in her mind as she was about to eat her meal. Maggie just laughed at her antics and decided not to pursue the topic. As they picked a movie to watch, a film that they _both_ agreed on, her sister decided to make one last piece about the issue at hand.

 

“While I say you shouldn’t worry about the one Dixon, it’s the other you need to keep your eyes peeled for. He’s no joke, even daddy can tell you that. That’s the one that processes our livestock and deer meat whenever Otis and Shawn go out hunting.”

 

Beth watched the opening credits roll through, though wasn’t completely focused on what was in front of her as she thought about what her sister had said.

 

“What’s his name again?”

 

“…Daryl. Daryl Dixon.”


End file.
